During my career as a lead trumpet player
I have been asked many times, often by far superior players, why they
themselves have had no success in that field. They had the technique,
the range and all the abilities required to play first trumpet, but
were never invited to do so. My answer has always been the same: You
must have soul.

The lead trumpet in a band is the man
soaring about over the top of the ensemble. Whether the passage be thunderous,
all–out, roaring, or delicate, whispering and power–controlled, he is
the one the listener will be hearing, controlling it from above. He
will have the melody.

The weight of the ensemble will come from
the other players. The lead trumpet has to inspire them into playing
in a certain way. He must lay down what he is going to do in that particular
passage, and once having done so, must do exactly the same on every
subsequent performance. He must do so with the utmost confidence and,
yes — aggression, if necessary. Only then will the others be able to
closely follow him. He must have tremendous energy. He must have impeccable
style. He must be able to adapt that to fit in with the style of every
band he plays in. And he must have soul. Without soul he can forget
it.

In the British big band era, roughly between
1940 to 1965, there were a mere handful of really great first trumpet
players. They all had soul. One could usually tell, even, when listening
to a broadcast, who was playing first trumpet. I remember the wife of
Jackie Brown, the organist, telling me that he had once shouted to her
from the bathroom, where he was shaving, to go and take a look at the
television set. The Dankworth band was playing. I was doing a one–off
dep in the band for Derrick Abbott.

‘Go and see if that’s Ron Simmonds playing
there,’ he shouted.

Nowadays the young, up–and–coming first
trumpet players generally have stupendous technique, incredible range
and no soul whatsoever. They all sound the same. Maybe this is better,
I don’t know. Whether they inspire the sections they are leading is
questionable. They will not be remembered in the way that the stalwarts
of the past are today. There are very few players on any instrument
today, anywhere in the world, who will become great names to be remembered
the way we remember the side–men of Dorsey, Goodman, James, Kenton,
Herman and, yes, many of the men who worked in the great British big
bands.